


Stitch the Stars to Hold the Night Sky

by Sparrow (hersilentlanguage)



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Descendants Winter Gift Exchange 2020, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jaylos-centric, M/M, detailed CW inside, light mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hersilentlanguage/pseuds/Sparrow
Summary: Jay hasn’t been kidnapped. Not exactly.But he’s gone all the same and Carloswon’tleave without him, no matter the risk. He doesn’t care about the months of planning wasted, the uncertainty of their future—it only matters that they find Jay and they get out. Together.Right now.He doesn’t need to convince Mal and Evie. They’re already there beside him, ready to do whatever it takes to get Jay back, and if it comes to a fight, well… none of them are strangers to the grit of city life after dark. Their parents run the underworld.That doesn’t mean there isn’t a life for them beyond this, does it?(This is the story of how Carlos almost lost Jay, perhaps not only because of what happenedthat night,but because, before it happened, he hadn’t realized how the sun had always shone for him at midnight—or, indeed, how beautiful the sight of it.)
Relationships: Evie & Jay & Mal & Carlos de Vil, Evie/Mal (Disney), Jay/Carlos de Vil
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Stitch the Stars to Hold the Night Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fangirl_in_distress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl_in_distress/gifts).



> **This fic was written as a gift for @just-a-glittery-fan as part of the Descendants Winter Gift Exchange 2020! She requested Jaylos + “whump with a happy ending,” so I’m here to deliver!** Happy holidays, Glitter! I really hope you enjoy this! ♥
> 
> **Before you start reading, be aware this story is non-chronological.** There are, in total, 31 short scenes comprising past, present, _and_ future events, all connecting to tell this story from Carlos’ POV (third person). Any scenes written exclusively in perfect past tense (had/have) imply Carlos is remembering something rather than _physically_ experiencing it in the narrative present. 
> 
> Last thing to note: certain graphic details of the plot are intentionally ambiguous due to the limited POV (i.e., Carlos doesn’t see/know everything going on, so neither do you). There are plenty of clues that’ll tip you off to what’s left unsaid but if you have any questions or want to confirm a theory, feel free to ask me in the comments or on Tumblr (@hersilentlanguage).
> 
> **General CW (more details in end notes, if you don’t mind spoilers):** swearing, implied symptoms of mental illness (anxiety, PTSD, disassociation), heavy themes (implied/non-graphic abuse and violence), minor character death (non-graphic), reckless driving

1.

The actual note had been torn from the pad, but beneath the lamp light, the impression was obvious.

Squinting, Carlos had leaned across the desk, dark eyes tracing the curves of Jay’s heavy scrawl—just two words written: _‘Dear Carlos,’_ but that was more than enough— _enough to know, enough to worry—_

_Jay wasn’t coming home this time._

He'd pulled his phone out, fingers trembling.

2.

“You gonna answer that?” Mal had deadpanned, annoyed by the skittering vibration.

Jay had flipped her off and gone to reach for the phone, probably to silence it, except that wasn’t what happened—it’d fallen off the coffee table and onto the rug, and at the sound of Jay’s curse, there’d come a loud voice from the phone: _“Boy, where the hell are you at?! I’ve got a gig lined up—”_

There’d been an awkward silence as Jay sat back on the couch, phone gone dark in his hand.

“So,” he’d said, at last, reaching to snatch the remote from the table, “we gonna watch something or what?” He’d raised an eyebrow as he glanced at Carlos, who’d been lingering by the bedroom door.

Nodding, Carlos had moved wordlessly to the couch, taking his seat between Jay and a dozing Evie.

3.

_‘Ma’am, please, if you know anything that could help us find him, anything at all…’_

Mal snorted at the scene, mimicking the actor’s constipated expression to make Evie giggle.

Rolling his eyes at them, Carlos stuffed his face with popcorn, trying to focus. He jumped in his seat when the door slammed open on the television, which—as embarrassing as it felt—only earned him a casual glance from Jay, who suddenly yawned and stretched an arm behind him on the couch—

_‘I know where he is!’_ cried the man on the screen, drawing skeptical looks from the other characters.

4.

“Are you sure?” asked Evie, poring over the map. She’d come to lean on the back of Carlos’ chair, sipping her coffee as she looked over his shoulder. He’d sketched out a route that had her pensive.

_“Positive,_ E.” Carlos tipped his head back, looking up at her with a half-pout. “It makes sense, look—” He glanced back down at the map, tapping his finger at a point near the start. “There’s only one main road here, so we don’t have a choice, but…” He circled a green space. “Jay’s dad owns all this. Mostly old farms and stuff. It’s not well guarded unless he’s out there, which is usually summer…”

Evie nodded her understanding, starting to smile as she considered it more. She’d been thinking they would cut through the city, using the twists and turns and cover of crowds to hide their tracks. It was dangerous, being the haunt of both Cruella and Maleficent, but trying to leave at all was a danger—

5.

“Hey, where’re you going…?” Carlos had asked, having caught the scent of spiced cologne as Jay passed behind him. He’d turned around to find Jay slipping into his jacket, his movements stilted.

“Got business,” Jay had answered vaguely, grabbing for his wallet. “Don’t wait up, okay…?”

Carlos had scoffed at that. “I won’t,” he’d assured as Jay was heading for the door. “Enjoy your _date._ ”

Pausing at the threshold, Jay had replied with a hollow chuckle, “It’s not a date.”

6.

_(And of course it wasn’t. He should have known! He should have realized. He shouldn’t have said that. Fuck.)_

7.

Carlos had been out of the car before the tires stopped spinning. He’d caught slush in his curls from a low-hanging branch, the snow like a burn as it warmed on his scalp; he’d barely given it a thought as he rushed across the asphalt, into the field—head down, eyes alert, and ready for anything—

(Except what he’d find there—been _about_ to find, in the moment.)

Mal’s boots had thunked on the pavement before she slid into the wet grass, coming up behind him, breathing hard from the stress. She’d grabbed his arm to keep him anchored, her eyes flashing in the dark. “I’ll go in first,” she’d told him, not about to hear him argue (that was obvious in her tone)—

He’d nodded numbly, taking comfort in her anger. He’d seen her gun catch the starlight—iron and subtlety as she stepped forward, deeper into shadow. He’d turned his head to look for Evie, who’d come quieter than Mal; she always seemed as much the evening as in it at that hour, her blue curls fading into black sky, and her beauty—her danger—more elusive than the new moon’s first night.

“We’ll get him out,” Mal had promised lowly, staring a challenge at the old farmhouse before them.

“Yeah,” Carlos had murmured, hands curled tight into fists. _They weren’t leaving this to fate._

_Jay would have to have known that. They were always going to find him._

8.

_‘—screaming your name—’_

The song broke off into static, bits of shattered porcelain melody still apparent before Mal flicked the dial off with a grunt. The only sound then was white noise—fan blades cycling heat, dialed to max—

Not enough to stop Jay shivering.

Carlos closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window, dizzy with exhaustion. He could feel Jay’s tremors, near in sync with his own, and took some comfort in that, knowing Jay was alive—

_He couldn’t take that for granted._

9.

“Fucking— _christ_ —are you _trying_ to get us killed?! God— _Carlos! CARLOS. Pull over!”_

Mal had grabbed the wheel and steered them off the road, smoking Carlos out from his mental rabbit hole. He’d released the gas as they passed the shoulder and coasted neatly into an empty crop field, the soil frosty but still slick beneath the heat of the tires; the smell of the rubber had made him feel nauseous and he’d quickly opened the driver’s side door to retch before stumbling out entirely.

“Jesus,” Mal had cursed, collapsing back onto Evie’s lap. (They’d both piled into the passenger seat when they’d sprung from the farmhouse, telling Carlos to drive. He’d gone out earlier, dragging Jay like a corpse, and by the time the girls had spent their last shot, he’d been squirming at the wheel.)

“I’ll talk to him,” Evie had offered, already reaching for the handle. She’d paused to plant a kiss on Mal’s cheek, whispering, “I’m proud of you” like a secret between them; then, with her hands on Mal’s waist, she’d pushed her off onto the warm seat and pressed her heeled boots to the soil—

10.

“Carlos?” Evie had murmured, laying a hand on his trembling shoulder. “We have to go…”

He’d swallowed hard, but slowly nodded. “Yeah,” he’d agreed, grip still tight on the back door; he’d been holding it open, just staring at Jay, not wanting to touch him— “Can you, um…” He glanced at Evie. “Can you pull the seat up, so I can just…” He gestured to the floor of the car, between the seats.

(Felt wrong to ask her, knowing her legs would be cramped, but she’d understood him. Always did.)

11.

Now, an hour since—maybe more—they were driving still, on and on and on to anywhere, like they had always planned to go. _Just not like this. No. Not like this._ They’d been planning for months, but—

None of that mattered.

Carlos sighed and tipped his head back, feeling the rhythm of the engine all through him. He let the white noise fill his mind as he began to doze, just trying to relax; that only lasted so long, since Mal veered sharply to avoid a pothole, only succeeding in hitting another. Carlos startled at the bump—head banging hard against the doorframe; dazedly, he reached out, just wanting to steady himself—

Jay’s clammy hand closed over his, startling him almost worse than the bump had done.

“Hey,” Carlos whispered, at last, not sure why he said it, what it meant besides… _I’m here._

12.

“Where’d you go?” asked Jay, reaching up to cup Carlos’ cheeks in his gloved hands, thumbs tickling across his cheek bones. “…’Los?” he prompted when Carlos only stared at him. “Are you— _mmph.”_

Carlos kissed him hard, grabbing his neck like a clumsy sloth, causing Jay to chuckle against his lips.

“Sorry,” Carlos breathed out, drawing back to look up at Jay. “I don’t know… why I did that.” His cheeks were flushed from cold and heat alike beneath his galaxy of freckles, and Jay—it seemed—couldn’t help but smile and move to kiss him again, warming Carlos like a thousand summers—

13.

“You want some water?” asked Evie, voice quiet as not to disturb Jay. She twisted around in her seat to look down at Carlos, who blinked at her tiredly before finally nodding, accepting the bottle—

And god, he _was_ thirsty. It surprised him how much. He drank and drank until it left him gasping, then looked to Jay, about to ask him if—oh. _It all came back to him suddenly. Black, violet, and blue…_

14.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” (Silence.) “Eves, hey—pass me your mirror? Cee’s freaking me out.”

Carlos slow-blinked; then, belatedly, he shook his head and reached for Jay’s arm. “No, it’s…”

Jay glanced at him sidelong, decidedly skeptical. “Whatever,” he huffed, flicking open Evie’s mirror. “If my beauty’s been marred…” (He sighed dramatically.) “You’ll just have to avenge me, fair love.”

“I—w-what?” Carlos was taken aback, mouth agape like a fish as Jay and Evie burst out laughing.

15.

The radio crackled and laughter bled through, startling Carlos awake and out of—whatever dream he’d been having. He couldn’t remember now, but it hadn’t seemed a nightmare. He breathed a soft sigh, glancing out the side window to the street lamps flashing by. _Wait,_ he thought, _the window…?_

He lowered his gaze to look at Jay, for a moment sure he must be dreaming still—

Jay was laying on his side, cheek pressed to Carlos’ thighs, face hidden in the folds of his sweater. He was shivering, arms crossed and knees curled, but he seemed to be sleeping, _as restful as he could be._

_God, his hair looked such a mess, though—all loose and knotted, spilling everywhere—_

16.

“I can braid it,” offered Carlos; then, more sheepishly, “if you want…”

Jay looked up at him, surprised, but quickly started to grin through his words: “Sure,” he replied, patting the bed beside him. “Show me what you got, De Vil.” He winked and Carlos huffed at him.

“You suck at this, you know,” Carlos muttered as he came to sit with Jay, who twisted around to give him easier access. “You’ve got lumps.” He made a face as he lifted Jay’s half-done attempt, then let it drop like a dead snake as he reached around for an elastic, smiling a bit at Jay’s rumbling chuckle—

“What can I say? My mother nev—” Jay stopped abruptly, and his tone became more serious. “Sorry, that was… that was stupid, I didn’t—” He stopped again when he felt Carlos’ hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, dude,” said Carlos, working Jay’s hair undone with his fingers. “I know what you meant.”

17.

_He didn’t have to say it. Didn’t have to speak._

Jay had tugged at his sleeve—more a question than demand.

Not so unlike the way Carlos would tug at Jay when he’d wake from a nightmare and, as stupid as he felt, he’d go to stand beside Jay’s bed and just… ask, in his quiet way—afraid to actually say it—afraid what people might think because—they weren’t kids anymore—it wasn’t innocent... was it?

And just like every time, Jay would groan and shift and make a space for Carlos.

That’s how it’d happened.

_Now Carlos remembered._

18.

Jay laid his head in Carlos’ lap, smiling up at him with a spark of mischief in his dark eyes.

“What?” asked Carlos, raising an eyebrow as he peered down at Jay, head cocking to one side.

“Just enjoying the view,” Jay said silkily, reaching up to twirl one of Carlos’ curls around his fingers.

Carlos scoffed at him, reaching to pick up the game controller. “You do that,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he brought up the menu and selected a racing game. “Don’t mess me up,” he warned, flexing the C-stick idly as his track began to render; on screen, the camera closed in over white fields and ice-slick pavement, coming to focus on the virtual driver’s POV behind a fogged-up windshield—

19.

“We should stop soon,” Evie was murmuring. “We’re far enough, M. We can rest for a while…”

Carlos’ eyes caught on the movement of Evie’s hand sliding over the centre console and onto Mal’s thigh. He flicked his gaze up—out the windshield again; the snow was falling fast and thick, worse and worse, the further north they drove. The wiper blades, slow and squeaking, were hypnotic—

20.

“Earth to Carlos,” Mal said drily, snapping her fingers in front of his face until he blinked at her.

It took him a moment to remember where they were, what they were doing—

“Right, uh—sorry.” _Chem test. Focus._ “So, this—the, uh… _this one_ bonds to… the smaller one, and…”

Mal groaned in exasperation, dropping her face into the spine of her textbook. “Dude, if I wanted to _fail,_ I’d be studying with Jay.” (She grunted in protest at the sharp kick that earned her.) “ _Seriously…”_

21.

“I’m fine,” Jay had assured him with a laugh, swatting Carlos’ hands away as he pushed past.

Trailing after him, scowling, Carlos had challenged, “If you’re so _fine,_ then why can’t I look?”

Jay had just waved him off, already heading into the bathroom. “There’s nothing to see, pup…” He’d flashed Carlos an odd smile before he vanished through the door, quick to twist the lock behind him.

22.

“C’mon, I’m not crazy! Jay’s acting weird, right?” Carlos had been careful to whisper, leaning in over the table, his dark eyes imploring. (He’d read hesitance in Evie’s flickering gaze, how she bit her lip.)

“I don’t know, ‘Los,” she’d sighed, at last. “I mean, I think he’d tell us if it was something serious…?”

He’d heard the question in her voice and drew back, frowning, glancing away. “Yeah, I don’t know,” he echoed, fingers drumming against his thigh. _Not if he thinks it’s dangerous,_ said a voice in his mind.

23.

Carlos glanced out the side of the car, eyes trailing the muddy tire prints at the edge of the road—

There was snow for miles beyond it. So much hidden beneath. Not just the snow, but the soil…

_He could never know it all, could he? Not the world and not Jay’s mind,_ but—

24.

“You could have told us,” said Carlos, voice quiet, eyes downcast. “You could have told _me…”_

Jay shook his head a little gingerly, still sore from the bruises along his jawline. He stretched a hand out across the bed and tugged at the hem of Carlos’ sweater. “Look at me—hey—Carlos, hey—look at me, _please,”_ he pleaded, tugging harder yet. “I couldn’t,” he said softly, when Carlos finally raised his eyes. “I just couldn’t risk it. I’m sorry. I couldn’t. He was…” Jay swallowed. “He would have—”

“Would’ve what?” asked Carlos, folding one knee onto the bed, a little hesitant, but still… _wanting._

_Wanting to be closer, to truly comfort Jay, to reach and wipe the tears from his bruised flesh—_

25.

He bent forward when Jay started to mumble; contorting his spine, he whispered soft into Jay’s ear, “You’re okay, you’re safe—we’re all safe, I promise.” He kissed Jay’s temple, light but lingering—

The mumbling quieted and Carlos went to pull away, but—

Jay caught him by the collar, making his heart jolt; he noticed it, then—Jay’s eye opening up beneath his mess of hair, glinting red from a stop light, briefly shuttering and opening again, but darker now.

“…’Los?” he uttered hoarsely, slowly loosening his grip, letting his hand slide down—

Carlos caught Jay’s hand in both of his, trying hard not to let his voice waver: “Yeah, just me…”

Jay hummed a little, subtly shifting his weight. “Mai t’heavy?” he mumbled, blinking up at Carlos.

26.

_“No,_ dumbass, I told you—” Carlos broke off laughing, victim to Jay’s tickling. “S- _stop,_ stop it!”

Jay looked like the sun above him, grin full and bright against the blue-painted ceiling. _So fucking tacky,_ Carlos had thought when they walked into the hotel room, but now… _it was kind of beautiful, wasn’t it?_

_Maybe it’d always been. He just hadn’t noticed._

Carlos’ eyes stung and the world blurred as Jay’s hand travelled beneath his shirt.

“Fuck, I’m—I’m gonna _kill_ you,” he gasped out, writhing and laughing and crying.

Jay’s boisterous laughter echoed off the ceiling, ringing loudly in his ears—

27.

“You think I’m joking?” Mal had questioned, tilting the gun down to point at the man’s head, then lowering it further to point at his crotch. “You either let him go, or…” (She’d clicked off the safety.)

The man’s laughter had died out. He’d been sneering at her, eyes cold. “Little bitch,” he’d hissed.

Mal had raised the gun with a strange smile. “Yeah… five foot _fuck you_. _”_ She’d pulled the trigger.

28.

The snowball struck hard, exploding over Jay’s back and making him stumble forward, drawing a yelp from Carlos as he was promptly barrelled over. “Shit, sorry,” Jay managed, less sincere for his laughter. He was grinning as he pushed up, hands on either side of Carlos’ scrunched-up face—

There was a moment of silence between them; then, Jay snorted and started to laugh again.

“Jerk!” Carlos complained, punching Jay in the chest (not that he felt it, as thick as his coat was).

Nearby, Mal shrieked loud with laughter, while Evie’s giggles were like an accent of music—

29.

The static crackled, overtaking the song.

“Did you hear me, ‘Los?” A pause. “Carlos, hey…”

(Her hand brushed over his knees, her touch like cat-fur-softness.)

“Sorry,” Carlos responded, voice low and monotonous, like the word had just been automatic. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog, but his eyes couldn’t quite seem to focus. “I—I heard you…”

“Alright,” said Evie, sounding almost hesitant. “Do you… want to go in? I can stay with him if—” She cut off, seeing the way Carlos’ hands came to rest on Jay, more possessive than tender. She had her answer in that and tried for a smile, drawing back into her seat. “If you change your mind…”

30.

“I won’t,” said Carlos, his gaze intense on Jay. “I want this. I want _you.”_ He flushed a little, sheepish now that he’d said it, but no less sincere as he took Jay’s hand in his. “We’re in it together, right…?”

“Whatever happens,” Jay agreed with a faint smile, giving Carlos’ hand a squeeze.

“Whatever _happened,”_ added Carlos, and with that, leaned in to kiss Jay.

31.

Evie smiled at the boys from inside the car, feeling warmth bloom in her chest as she watched them. They were trailing toward the woods, hands bumping between them. Mal, emerging from the pines, stopped to rush them along as she zippered her pants, squealing when they kicked up snow at her—

“Ugh,” Mal complained, pulling open the passenger door. “Can we _please_ just leave them here…?”

Laughing softly, Evie reached up to yank Mal down into her seat, then pulled her closer across the centre console. “I don’t think you mean that,” she murmured, brushing a strand of Mal’s hair back.

Mal leaned into the touch and sighed her reply, as dramatic as ever, “I really, _really_ do, Eves…”

“Uh-huh…” Evie kissed her nose, then drew back a little, smiling. “Just admit you love them.”

“Gross,” Mal mumbled, though her eyes sparked with sunlight.

“You’d be lost without them,” Evie continued, a lilt to her tone that made the words song-like.

“I can read a map, E,” Mal retorted, mimicking her lilt so well that Evie couldn’t help but giggle.

There was a lapse of breath between them, then, and Evie quieted as she gazed at Mal, who dealt with that as best she could—by surging forward for a kiss, accidentally hitting the horn with her elbow. They both startled at the loud sound and more so for their failed attempts at composure.

When Jay and Carlos returned, it was to find the windshield fogged and the hazard lights flashing. They could hear loud laughter from inside the car, and Carlos turned to Jay with a raised eyebrow.

“I keep telling you we should ditch them.”

“And I keep telling _you_ they’d find us…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated! I'd love to hear your thoughts, but no pressure. <3
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for more Descendants content, including Tumblr-exclusive drabbles/headcanons: @hersilentlanguage
> 
> **CW (spoilers):** swearing; mentally ill POV character (Carlos), which I mention because this fic’s structure is inherently shaped by his symptoms/perception; implied anxiety, PTSD, and disassociation; reckless driving; parental abuse (mostly implied); implied sexual and physical abuse (ambiguous, non-graphic); gun violence (non-graphic description); minor character death/murder (non-graphic)


End file.
